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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26518780">Taler, Taler</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Multishipperlove/pseuds/Multishipperlove'>Multishipperlove</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Zemnian Roots [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Critical Role (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, Pre-Canon, Since this is pre-canon Caleb is continously referred to as Bren, Starvation Mentioned, Transmutation Magic, zemnian</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 04:07:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,556</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26518780</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Multishipperlove/pseuds/Multishipperlove</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Bren is barely a few weeks out of the Sanatorium, trying to keep himself afloat while getting as far from Rexxentrum as possible.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Zemnian Roots [6]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1488566</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>47</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Taler, Taler</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Growing up, Bren had heard many stories of the Eisfus River. Springing from high up in the Dunrock Mountains it ran through the Empire like a pulsating lifeline, leaving giant cities and lush fields in it's wake, swamps and trading ports, gouging it's way through the land like only natural elements were capable of. But he'd never actually <em>seen</em> it.<br/>
<br/>
As important as the river was to the fields, to the orchards and pastures that sustained his old home village, Blumenthal was too far away from it to justify the time it would take to travel there. And for what reason anyway, as long as it didn't dry out there was no issue. During his time at the Academy, there hadn't been time either. There had never been time for anything, really.</p>
<p>Now it was ten years later, and with a feeling of his mind still only being half his own, maybe it was fate that Bren had ended up travelling along the riverbanks for the last couple of weeks. At least he knew that the river was leading away from Rexxentrum. Away from Vergessen. From everything he knew. Right now, Eisfus was <em>his</em> lifeline. Wandering from one small town to the next, trying to avoid bigger crowds, he was slowly making his way further into the Empire than he ever had, still trying desperately to try and make sense of what his life had become.</p>
<p>For the first few weeks, basic instincts had been enough. From Vergessen he had first managed to flee into the Pearlbow Wilderness, where his frantic mind had latched on to <em>shelter</em>, <em>food</em>, and <em>water</em>, drowning out anything that wasn't immediately needed for survival. It was how he had found his way to Eisfus in the first place, frozen over just thick enough to walk on without leaving any traces behind, but not impossible to break through either for food or water if he needed it. Following it had been a easy choice.</p>
<p>Back in civilisation though it wasn't as easy, he actually needed coin to survive. And while he might not have a lot of morals left by now (he had long proven what kind of person he was) it still didn't feel particularly good to swindle other people of their hard earned money. In every man's face who bought one of his tricks, smiling and not yet realising he'd been duped, he saw his father counting his silver at the end of the month, wondering if they would be able to pay rent. Every woman holding a child's hand turned into his mother, questioning if they could afford to send him to school for another year. Some nights he told himself he didn't need to eat, almost relieved to chose hunger over any painful reminder of his past.</p>
<p>On other days, it wasn't a choice though. He had tried, standing in the same corner of the market place for hours now as he ignored the steady drizzling of rain to give his usual spiel, barely even getting a glance though from the people busily passing by. But just as he turned to leave, deciding he'd have better luck curling up somewhere and saving his energy, he felt a gentle tug on his coat.</p>
<p>“Hey Mister... can you really turn copper into silver with your pot?”</p>
<p>Bren looked down. A little boy was looking straight back, maybe ten years old, buck teeth poking out from behind his lips as he spoke with a thick Zemnian accent. It took Bren a moment to answer, and he stayed in Common in the hopes of not drawing any attention to himself. “Well, it- I mean, once a day, ja. It is a difficult thing to do.”</p>
<p>“And have you done it today?” he asked curiously.</p>
<p>Bren was really wondering where this was going now. Also, children had a habit of making him feel uncomfortable. Too perceptive, sometimes, even if adults didn't tend to believe them. “I have not, no. Why are you asking?”</p>
<p>The boy looked down for a moment, scuffing his shoes against the mud. “I have copper... and it looked like you were 'bout to leave and not sell the pot, so I thought you might not need it today.”</p>
<p>“Ah. And you want me to turn a copper piece into silver for you?” he asked, understanding now. The kid nodded, grinning a little as his expression turned hopeful, and Bren sighed softly. The way the trick worked, he would have to let the boy wander off with one of his last silver pieces. To assure the illusion of an instant transmutation, instead of having people wait ten minutes during a presentation, he had a silver piece in his pocket turned into copper, which he could simply drop concentration on if needed. It also helped that people only realised the scam 24 hours later, instead of less than an hour when he couldn't hold the spell anymore. Usually it was enough time to get out of town.</p>
<p>And of course, loosing a silver piece was well worth the sum he usually got for selling the little bowl he used for his trick. Only that this time, he wouldn't get that. All it would get him was a happy child he would never see again.</p>
<p>With another deep sigh he dragged a hand through his hair, taking the bowl out of his coat pocket. Leaning down a little, he took the transmuted copper piece out as well, showing it to the child. “Okay, I will do it. But you can not tell anyone I did this for you, and you have to help me with the incantation. Alright?”</p>
<p>The smile in front of him grew three sizes as the boy gave an enthusiastic nod. “Yeah! Of course I wanna help, how do I do that?”</p>
<p>“Well, come here,” Bren muttered, motioning for him to step a little closer before guiding small hands to hold the bowl and placing the coin in the middle. “I noticed your accent. You speak Zemnian?”</p>
<p>Another excited nod. “Ja.”</p>
<p>“Very good. If your parents have read you some fairytales before, I'm sure you'll know the magic words that activate this little device,” Bren told him, smiling a little as well as he saw the wonder in the boy's eyes. “I'll start, and you just have to speak them with me, okay?” Another nod, and Bren started to speak, slowly, pronouncing every syllable clearly so the boy could join in. “Sim sa la bim, bam ba, sa la du, sa la bim.”</p>
<p>As they finished the last part Bren dropped his concentration on minor alchemy, and the coin glistened and almost started to vibrate for a moment as the deep copper turned into a lighter, vibrant silver. The kid gasped and immediately grabbed for it, turning it around and in ever direction as if trying to see if any of the old copper was left on it. It wasn't.</p>
<p>“Whoa... this is amazing,” he finally mumbled, looking back to Bren again with obvious awe. “Did we do that?”</p>
<p>“Of course,” Bren assured him. “You saw it with your own eyes, didn't you. And it's all yours now.”</p>
<p>The boy still looked like he couldn't believe it, not taking his eyes off the coin at first, and Bren saw that as his cue to leave. Straightening up he smoothed his coat out, already starting to feel awkward, but before he could walk off the boy stopped him again, pressing a piece of copper into his hand . “Here, this is for you. Because you used one of your coins instead of mine... and I promise I won't tell anyone!”</p>
<p>And with that, he ran off. Not very far, Bren could see him join up with a group of other children just on the other side of the marketplace. Gesturing excitedly, showing them his silver piece. From the sceptical expressions Bren could tell that he had most likely told at least <em>something</em> of the coin's magical origin, and the others didn't seem to believe him. He didn't blame them.<br/>
<br/>
Whether they believed him or not, after a few minutes of discussion they seemed more interested in getting back to playing, though the coin did not disappear yet. Instead they formed a circle, the boy in the middle, and started a game that was very familiar to Bren. Everyone held their hands out in front of them, allowing a small item to be passed to them from the player in the middle without being seen, while singing a short song. Whoever could tell where it had ended up by the time the song was over was usually allowed to keep the item, a game more commonly played with pocket change or candy. Maybe the silver had gotten them excited.</p>
<p>Despite it having been decades  since he had played anything like it, the words came back to Bren easily as he finally turned away. Pulling the hood of his coat deep into his face he started walking, away from the marketplace and the children, out of the town. Back towards Eisfus to follow the winding path it had freed for itself, leaving the little boy and his silver piece behind.</p>
<p><em>Taler, Taler du musst wandern,<br/>
</em><em>Von dem einem Ort zum andern.</em><br/>
<em>Das ist schön, das ist schön, </em><br/>
<em>Taler lass dich ja nicht seh'n. </em></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bgDAYc6VpLk&amp;ab_channel=J%C3%BCrgenFastje">Linkt to the song</a><br/>I've had this in my head for ages, and it didn't come out quite as I'd planned but I hope it still makes sense  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯<br/>And a rough translation of the song, of course:</p>
<p>Coin, coin, you must wander,<br/>From the one place to the other.<br/>That is nice, that is nice,<br/>Coin don't let yourself be seen.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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